A new kind of spring.

Back in Burlington.  Those three words have struck a deep, engulfing fear and dread in me since I took off for LA last week.  But.

The weather is welcoming me back.  It's 50 and sunny.  At least I'm not being slapped in my face with a snowstorm.  

The thaw is coming around here as well.  Even though it's that gross part at the beginning of spring when the snow melts and reveals all of the litter and frozen mud........all of the ugly means that something better is to come!  When spring starts to peek through the winter haze around here people emerge from houses like bears out of hibernation.  Squinting into the sun, stretching into the new air.  Joggers, bikers, and skateboarders seem to quadruple in the span of a weekend.  It's appreciation man.  The thaw is coming! Life will be restored to the barren wasteland that is Northern Vermont and the green will emerge and spread across the mountains until grass and leaves and flowers cease to be a novelty.  Something to be counted becomes something to be counted on.  

If I was to move to California, I think that cycle would be something I'd miss.  Although, not enough to make me want to run back here mid-January.  But there is something so satisfying in watching the Earth move and change and restore itself.  Temperate climates offer a type of dependable landscape that is stagnant.  Stagnant in a beautiful aesthetic, but 

I am a daughter of New England.  Dark and tortured, bright and content.  Cynical enough to believe that the only constant is constantly changing.